


we're falling as we grow

by chailattemusings



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, Urban Magic Yogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is ensnared by the local Sidhe lord.</p><p>Part of the Urban Magic Yogs AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're falling as we grow

Will fell into the simplest trap without even realizing it.

The poor boy had stumbled into Kirin’s shop during rush hour, so overwhelmed he could barely speak, and Kirin knew almost immediately that he was a sorcerer.

Not only that, but a sorcerer of technomancy.

Will had barely reacted to Kirin’s presence except to thank him for accommodating him and to insist he had to leave Kirin’s store, that he had shopping to do, but his cheeks were still flushed from the buzz of traffic in the streets outside, and his fingers twitched with every movement. It was simple for Kirin to offer him a cup of tea, and a chair to sit in and enjoy the drink.

If Kirin were younger, and the city less modern, he would have swallowed Will whole.

But even sidhe lords had their limits, and Kirin’s was the fact that his store rested in an urban neighborhood, and there were appearances to uphold. He let Will sip unknowingly from the teacup he’d been given, taking in slow breaths, and Will ended up relaxing for almost a half hour. Finally, he’d drained the cup and taken his leave, speaking again of the shopping as if to assure himself he  _wanted_  to leave, though Will’s eyes lingered over the plants and, in a move Will probably thought was subtle, Kirin himself.

Kirin let him leave the small shop, confident that he would be back again.

He hadn’t predicted it would be so soon. A week later, the bell rang on his front door, and Kirin looked up from the shrubs he was nursing to see Will, in a vest and ironed pants, one hand resting at his side and the other holding the door open. His face was red, though he’d cleaned up his expression, his lips looking only slightly chewed. Kirin glanced at the clock as he stood and brushed his hands over his pants. Noon, rush hour. Right on time.

“Can I help you?” Kirin asked, taking long strides to the front of the shop. He wove between tables of ceramic pots and shears, brushing past a wheelbarrow filled with bags of fertilizer, until he’d stopped in front of Will, who hadn’t left his doorway.

“Uh,” Will said, his eyes on the pots of plants hanging from the ceiling. “I was here last week? You probably wouldn’t remember . . .”

“You stumbling in here, exhausted?” Kirin grinned. “I remember very well. Your name is Will, correct? Have you recovered since the incident?” Kirin took a strategic step back, picking up an errant scrap of paper from the front counter, next to the register, and straightening some of the displays against the wall. General movements to keep his back turned as Will processed the question.

“I have,” Will said, still in the doorway. A hand combed through his short blond hair. “Actually, I was wondering something.”

Kirin turned, bright eyes and an eager smile. “Yes?”

Will coughed into his hand, finally moving farther in the store, fingers tracing over one of the display tables. The store, nearly as saturated with plants and gardening supplies as the greenhouse built on the land behind it, wouldn’t pulse with a thumping energy for the technomage, would only hum quietly in the background. Kirin could see Will’s shoulders relaxing, his body losing its edge as the door clicked shut behind him, hitting the bell again on its way back. It rang with a loud peal through the store.

“The tea you gave me when I was first here,” Will said, his eyes darting about the store. “It was very good, had a mild flavor with a nice aftertaste.” His eyes met Kirin’s and the flush in his face burned darker. “It was good,” Will said, clearing his throat. “I wanted to know if it was a personal brew, or something you sold in the shop.”

Like so many others, Kirin had lured a fly to the web without quite trying.

“I do sell it,” Kirin said, putting a hand on his hip. His jeans bunched under his thick fingers, and Kirin took a moment to brush another speck of dirt from the denim. “It’s homemade from a local provider, though. I don’t always carry it. I think I might have a tin left, if you’d like some.”

Will glanced behind him, out the front windows. Cars drove past on the streets, the thickness of rush hour congesting them, and bodies crowded the sidewalk. Kirin had never been so attuned to the city as someone versed in technomancy, and he could only imagine how suffocated Will felt when the city swelled with activity like this.

Will swallowed, turning back. “If you could, that would be great. Xephos didn’t believe me when I told him how good it was.”

Kirin tilted his head. “Xephos?”

“My uncle,” Will said, as if Kirin didn’t know about the mistrusting hedgewitch across the neighborhood. Xephos had been in the shop exactly once, and never came back. If Kirin remembered correctly, he had connections to Lomadia. She’d mentioned the name a couple times when in the shop to buy seeds for her window boxes.

“Well, perhaps you can give him some,” Kirin said, standing straight and crossing the shop in a few steps. Gardening at the front, magic in the back, was how he stored his supplies, although the lines often blurred. His fertilizers and handmade pots weren’t exactly all natural, and most of the products on the magical side had ingredients from common plants. Clear distinctions weren’t fun.

He had one tin of the tea he’d given Will, as promised. If there was one thing Kirin didn’t do, it was outright lie. He could order more today and have it in by tomorrow, and then he wouldn’t be caught short when Will inevitably asked for more. Chamomile and lemon, for relaxing the body and protection.

Perhaps a dash of devotion, too, but that could depend on the individual batch, and Kirin liked to gamble.

He brought it to the front counter, and found Will staring at the ceiling. “Is something the matter?” he asked, as he set down the tin of tea. It rattled inside, dry herbs dinking against the metal.

Will continued to stare at the ceiling. “You have oil lamps,” he said, blinking slowly.

Kirin followed his gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I do.”

Will hummed, flexing his fingers, and Kirin laughed quietly. He minimized electricity in his shop, keeping the barest essentials of the modern world. HVAC was one of the best inventions Kirin had come across, primarily for his greenhouse but also to keep the plants inside the shop from freezing. He couldn’t imagine living without the Internet now that he’d used it for several years. And sprinklers cut down on his watering time in the plants’ nursery.

But everything else, Kirin left alone, including electric lighting. “It creates a soft aura,” Kirin said, leaning on the counter with his elbows, hands tucked together. “Of course, there’s always the fire hazard, but I use tall lamps, and fire’s a risk with electric lighting, too. Possibly moreso, hm?”

Will narrowed his eyes. “If wired correctly, no, it’d be fine.”

Kirin could practically taste Will’s magic, the way it reached out and curled around every scrap of technology he could find in the shop, how it hummed strong from his body and spidered across the floor, the walls.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Kirin assured him, waving a hand. “In fact, I have a nice set up with sprinklers and heating in my greenhouse, in the back. It makes it so much easier to grow the plants I want.” He grabbed the tin of tea, holding it in his hands without moving to ring it up on the old fashioned cash register.

His comment peaked Will’s interest, brows rising. “There’s a greenhouse?” His eyes flicked back to the hanging pots.

Kirin hummed an affirmation, moving toward the cash register, still not ringing up the tea. “If you’d like, I can show you around. It’s a slow day today, and the plants would enjoy the company.” He was only half kidding about the last part, but if Will noticed, he didn’t mention anything.

Will’s hands had drifted to one of the small pots, that had snake plants growing in it. He fingered it gently, brushing over the soil the leaves rested in. He dug in a half inch, and Will breathed deep, feeling the natural magic. Kirin watched him, the way Will let his stance relax, how his thumb rubbed over the edges of the pot. It wasn’t the sight of a magic practitioner attuned to plants, someone who could feel the life of nature and revel in it.

This was a sorcerer who was calm without his element, taking in the magic that didn’t resonate with him so, for once, he could be calm.

Will turned and saw Kirin watching him, and yanked his hand away from the snake plant. “Sure! I mean, yes.” Will blushed, not from the exertion of keeping up with the city but his own embarrassment, and the color suited him beautifully. “Yes, I’d like to see the greenhouses. If it isn’t any trouble.”

Kirin smiled, pulling one of the numbered levers at random to open the cash drawer. The old register still worked, but Kirin kept his sales logs on Excel, with a notepad by the cash register to write down transactions and transfer them to his laptop later. The cash register was more of a lockbox, but the loud, clanging ring it produced every time Kirin opened it sent a pleasant hum through his fingers and up his arms. Years of use, of customers passing through a given store, and their money, laced with the travels of the economy and its people, had seeped into the rusted metal, and every time Kirin opened the cash register was like opening up a history tome.

Will pulled out a few bills and paid for his tea tin. Kirin slipped it in a paper bag bearing the logo of his shop, and stepped out from behind the thick, wooden counter. “Come on,” he said, moving toward the back door, his hand on the knob. “I’ll show you the greenhouse.”

Will followed, the shopping bag sitting heavy on his curved fingers. 


End file.
